New Fountain Pens: Preppy Platinum and KaWeCo PERKEO

3506/A.

A couple of pen acquisitions worth noting.

Despite using a Cross Classic Century for the majority of my handwriting I still pine for great fountain pens. For a long time, until Muse Art & Design closed, I used the Preppy Platinum. This, despite its name, is an affordable, well-made fountain pen for all; it is made of recycled materials ad available in two or three point sizes (I preferred 0.3 mm).

When Muse closed the only local brick'n'mortar art-store source I knew of of Preppy cartridges went with it, so I put up my Preppy for the time being. I'm happy to record here that Artist & Craftsman Supply, the national chain of widely-separated, funky, quirky, employee-owned art supply stores, has started stocking Preppy refills in its location on SE 21st just south of Powell Blvd.

Despite being a unit of a national chain, A&C has charmed us and the service there is very personal. As a matter of fact, after seeing they had Preppy but not the refills we put in a suggestion and a couple of weeks later they called us personally and told us that they were stocking them now, so we are duly impressed. Well-done, A&C!

The other pen was gotten from a little upscale-ish stationery shop at 3325 SE Division St called Little Otsu. The brand KaWeCo is from Germany, and the pen model is called the PERKEO. It's a thick-barrelled clipless fountain pen made in a more traditional style, and, unlike the Preppy Platinum, it accepts the standard international ink cartridge.

Top, Preppy Platinum 0.2 nib; Bottom, KaWeCo PERKEO "Old Chambray" style

The PERKEO is sold in four color schemes. The off-white and blue scheme I have is called "Old Chambray"; they have a scheme that has a black barrel and a pastel-ish, cherry red cap that is called "Bad Taste". There's a complete review of the PERKEO at the Pen Addict blog down this rabbit hole which is written by someone who loves pens more than I do which is possibly unhealthy but probably is actually really awesome and goes into much detail on it.

Left, Preppy point; right, PERKEO point

A close look at the two nibs gives an idea of where the two companies are coming from. Preppy's is unadorned, simple, down-to-business; KaWeCo's PERKEO demonstrates an attention to style and form one would expect from a German brand name whose legacy dates to 1883, even in a basic entry-level model.

I expect much handwriting satisfaction.

#PDX_liff : Meditation On The Blanding-Out Of Old Portland

3464.

The closing of The Third Eye Shoppe has catalyzed a lot of observations into a clear picture of evolution and how things pass along during the years. Change is constant, and change is also bittersweet; you roll with the changes but the changes, sometimes, have no intention of rolling with you, indeed they are indifferent. And there is a little world-pain that comes with that. I suppose that it's something one much just acknowledge as best as they can and be as foxy and clever and find ways to be tenable in the evolved landscape.

I remember when me and Wife were new-again to Portland after spending a few years in Corvallis. We exploited every opportunity we could get to go downtown. Downtown was funky back then. They even had an Arctic Circle with a great view of Pioneer Courthouse Square (prole burgers and fries with a perch for the best people watching in town? Damn skippy!) There was a 'Dollar Chinese Food' place, a steam-table restaurant, in the first floor of the Portland Medical Center building at SW 10th and Washington. Django Records. Art Media for art supplies. Metro on Broadway at SW Broadway and Taylor, sort of a food-court-without-a-mall-attached.

Downtown has been sanitized and de-funked. When they wanted it as a live-in neighborhood, apparently they only wanted people earning north of $75K a year down there. Me and Wife fancy a trip downtown to see if there's anything interesting down there, but I think we know in the back of our minds there's nothing really worth going to any more.

Now, it's Hawthorne. Time was there wasn't a week where we didn't find some excuse to go down Hawthorne. Jambo World Crafts, Dollar Scholar, Muse Art + Design, those were our three regular stops, there was the big raggle taggle used bookstore at SE 33rd that morphed into a vintage shop, Murder By the Book, The Daily Grind, so much that was funky and welcoming. The only thing that would attract us anymore would maybe be Powell's on Hawthorne (actually eager to see how that's building out), and Zach's Shack and Pepinos (they always had the most fabulous steak and potato burritos). But Hawthorne is going the way of downtown, losing all move, groove, and attitude, and if the social push-out of the lower middle- and lower class out to Outer East wasn't real to any one yet, why, it should be now.

Old Portland can still be found, multicolored and funky, out 122nd way, out in what the kids call 'The Numbers' … for a while, anyhow. 

[art] I've Been Framed, March 2017

3460.

We began patronizing I've Been Framed, the funky art-supply store and custom framing shop, back in 2003, when I was shopping for a number of art supplies for graphic design school

I found an unopened, untouched box of DaVinci gouache for, while I don't recall the exact price, a very very good deal. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Over the years we've paid innumerable visits (and there have been some, one including a cat by the name of Jordie, documented by myself here) and have never fallen out of love. It's like walking into a color explosion, or maybe a tie-dye world. If IBF doesn't have it, then you probably don't need it. They have blank books for cheap, to continue to feed my diary jones.

Its combination of new and used supplies gives it a gallmaufry atmosphere, which is a most wonderful thing, what with things being as they are. You may have your mental-health days. Mine, you'll find me here.

The art being supported by the ladykin is one of my favorite things, and it always makes me smile whenever I see it. It was living in the back for a while, and now it's up front for a while, and I almost laughed out loud when I saw it.

The store goes back for a ways. Packed as always, an explosion of color, and back all the way to the back wall and you go left is a wall full of graphite drawing supplies, more than you'd need, including Blackwings. also, even farther back, the custom framing.

In a world where Art Media sells out to Blick and Muse goes away, if you needed an idea of why I've Been Framed is important and remains so, it's that this crazy gem has been going at it for more than 60 years now … and shows no signs of stopping any time soon. Other places may have the supplies, but when it comes to sheer character and pesonality, none tops I've Been Framed.

I felt brighter just for having stepped in.

Thanks for being there, guys. And staying there.

[art] A Motivational Self-Study Short Course: "Do More With Your Art" By Peter Rossing

3457.

In the previous missive I shared some of my thoughts and feelings about the permanent closing of Muse Art and Design, the Hawthorne area art supply store that has delightfully taken some of our disposable income over the past twelve years.

I may have gotten a little lachyrmose about it, but it was that good. 

I'd like to share a little something with the world. Peter Rossing, the owner, had as one of his missions to give little talks, a way of fulfilling the store's mission of equipping, informing and inspiring, All artists, may we be working or aspiring, need two essential things to get going: inspiration and motivation. My problem, for an embarassingly-long time, was that I would confuse and conflate the two, eventually thinking that inspiration is all I need to create.

That's bull. I live in Portland, Oregon, perhaps one of the most inspirational places known to artistic people. Also, there are no shortage of publications exhorting my attention: look at this! Truly, this is inspiring! What can you create, now that you've seen this?

Well, I can create whatever I want. But knowing I can create and getting moving on creating, why, those are, after all, two different things. I must have nearly 1,000 pounds of books about insipiring me to create art. Very few on getting the motor actually running.

What I'm going to share with you now is the notes from a talk Peter and Muse gave on the 23rd of February, 2015, two years ago. The title is Do More With Your Art in 2015, and it's a short course on separating inspiration and motivation and how to nurture motivation in a world that's all about inspiration. I love this document, and as I continue the pitched battle to create habits that are about self-indulgently creating good (or any) art rather than just self-indulgence, this is a touchstone that I return to time and again. It contains a couple of self-guided exercises and a handful of good suggestions, a list of references for further exploration, and a chart of checkboxes that represent two years of days (every time you do something creative, put an x in the box and you'll have a trajectory). It's not hard! All you have to do is bring yourself, your brain, a few minutes of your time (it's only 11 pages) and a bit of honesty.

One major reason I made sure to stop by Muse is to visit Peter one last time and thank him. Another important one? To get his permssion to share this file. Muse Art and Design may no longer be with us, but with this, we can make sure its spirit of Equip, Inform, Inspire remain as though it still were.

Inspire yourself to motivation with this document, a PDF, which is on my Google Drive, here:

https://drive.google.com/open?id=0B5n6OeSCIc0dUXEteVhUZFFKVzQ

[liff] Muse Art and Design: Goodbye, Farewell, So Long.

3456.

It's hard, on the heels of that sorting out of what the knowledge of the demise of the Corvallis Gazette-Times's wonderful former headquarters building has done to my personal psyche, but now I have to face the knowledge that one of our favorite bright spots in this world, the mighty Muse Art and Design, at 4220 SE Hawthorne Blvd, is gone now, too.

Well, is going. In the process of closing. My heart is broken.

I got the email, as many on the email list did, at the end of last week. Sudden, it seemed; stunned, I was.

Muse opened back in 2004 in the space immediately adjacent to this, at 4224 SE Hawthorne. It's a new-jack old-fashioned barber shop now. The space that they were now in, 4220, was a vintage shop called Shadowhouse. Muse came in and opened up the light and what was a bright spot to us before became even a brighter spot now, well lit, with well-priced supplies we would go back to again and and again, and the same sweet, friendly people.

I made several mentions here in the past of our love of Muse and the people who ran it and the artists who would come by occasionally for a demo or a talk. They will remain cherished memories. But there will be no further. An old beloved favorite is leaving us.

Where there were once art supplies to buy, there is space.

Peter Rossing, whom
we shall extremely miss

I understand the demand for the clearance merchandise was huge. Peter Rossing, the proprietor and hero of our tale, was quite surprised at the number of people who came in on Thursday, which may have been the first real day of the sale. By the time me and The Wife™ arrived, it was only Sunday, but the place had been gone through pretty well. I was hoping to score a black book or two, but those were gone with the wind. There was still quite a few paints - oil, acrylic, and watercolor - also a lot of pastels, but most of the drawing paper was gone, the sketchbooks, graphite and ink drawing supplies, all conspicuous by their absences.

I had to stifle more than one sob, which is corny, but I'm not going to lie about that.

There were some woodless pencils left. I scored several HBs and 2Bs. I don't need much else. Wife got some acrylic colors and some of the POS displays, including a mechanical pencil merchandiser on a pivot.

This really causes me some interior displacement. Art supply shops are some of the happiest, brightest places I can think of. One of the peak experiences of my weeks are visiting art supply stores with my wife; the feeling of well-being art supplies give me is hard to put into words. The two which occupied complementary places in my heart are, of course, the eternal I've Been Framed, and Muse. I loved both of them because of their complementary souls. IBF is like the raggle-taggle gypsy, the tie-dyed Grateful Dead fan, always surprising, just wanting to get you what it was you wanted and the funky style wasn't so much curated as it was evolved. It's the most casual, kind experience you can have. Muse, on the other hand, had a restrained, refined style and poise. Both served the Portland artist community with the same sort of "get busy with your art" passion that has made that community such a vibrant thing.

With Muse, it was a slogan: To equip, inform and inspire.

What will be my most treasured memory about Muse? Knowing I could always depend on getting Preppy fountain pens there? The transformative seminar in February 2015, about the difference between art inspiration and motivation which has finally (after two years, my brain moves slow) enabled me to grasp that it wasn't inspiration I needed, but I was starved on motivation? That time when Bwana Spoons did his demo? Getting to know Vaughn Barker and his little women? That time the fellow who was looking to get a treasured volume of DosPassos repaired and told me the story of Rosa Luxembourg's visit to Portland and the way DosPassos and Hemingway ended their friendship over the way Hemingway regarded the victims of the Spanish Civil War? Or will it be the endless chats me and my wife had with Peter and his staff about art materials, the art store business, small talk about the day, and how goddamned nice they all were?

It'll all be treasured. Because we won't have it again, at least not at Muse.

Muse moved into 4220 about six years ago. One of the improvements to the landscaping was six curved stepping stones arranged into a circle; colored yellow, green, purple, blue, red, orange. A color wheel. And in the middle, a big circle of white gravel. Walking past it always ignited a frisson of happiness in me; I knew that, whether or not I walked out of Muse with a purchase, I was about to pay a visit to friends, and it would be a happy thing.

This is the color wheel today. Sic transit gloria Muse. 

They were friends as well as vendors, and, for a little bit anyway, the old maxim don't be sad because it's over, be glad because it happened and you were there rings a bit hollow. At least we still have I've Been Framed. They aren't going to be leaving us any time soon, or at least it doesn't seem that way.

We visited them in the beginning, and we were there at the end: RIP Muse Art and Design, as Portland as it gets: 2004-2017.

I hope I cross Peter's path again. He sure is a swell fellow.

[art] Rotring Tikky Graphic – The Return Of The Rapidoliner, Kinda.

3217.

This makes me happy.

Does anyone remember the Rotring Rapidoliner? This is not to be confused with the iconic pen line Rapidograph, mind you, which, I understand, is still available (I have a set of steel-tipped Koh-I-Noor Rapidographs myself, these apparently being the American version of the Rotring pen system).

For those who don't know, there are these things called technical pens, originally developed to create a precise line for those who did drafting – technical drawings. They came in a range of sizes, and the tip … the nib … was a steel tube with a flat end. a wire, with a weight, ran through this tube, and the contact of the wire with the paper jiggled the weight and provided flow.

Tech pens are challenging to create are with, yet rewarding; they require skill, patience and finesse, and were ideal for people who loved obsessing over detail in drawing, like me. They had their flaws, though … they were touchy to keep clean, especially in the finest points, and unless handled with care, prone to leaking. One travelled with them at their own risk. They had a pocket clip on the pen top, but I found it inadvisable to travel with them in your pocket.

That was why the Rapidoliners were so cool. They were a disposable version of the Rapidograph, and while the refill seemed a tad wasteful (it actually took up most of the pen, which was just really a tube that enabled you to hold and cap the refill), it was a much, much more portable version of the Rapidograph and went just about anywhere.

About 10 years ago, I think, Rotring stopped making them. In the succeeding years, Stadtler, LePen, Pigma, Sakura and others started making hard-tipped markers with precise widths and archival pigmented inks, and I imagine that even the Rapidographs are starting to see a greatly-decreased demand. But when we are +Muse Art and Design during Hawthorne Street Fair and I asked what was new, they pointed me at the pen display and I saw one of these:

This, my friends, is the Rotring (they like to style it rOtring) Tikky Graphic pigmented ink marker. The look of the pen, with its brown barrel and its red band, spoke to me so loudly in design that I thought for a minute that Rotring was bringing back the Rapidoliner. Well, no, but that's cool. This is a high-quality, smooth-writhing, precise-line marker, with a well-balanced feel that's kind to the writing and drawing hand. The ink delivery system seems to be akin to the fountain-pen delivery system common in pens like the Pilot Precise line, and the ink is kind to the paper I wrote that on, not bleeding.

It comes in the range of line-widths you expect from a line of archival, precise-line markers, and it just has that great Rotring professional-look that I learned to love so very much.

So, no, the Rapidoliner isn't back and I don't expect it back anytime soon. But this is the next best thing, and a worthy successor.

If it's good enough for Shoo Rayner, an award-winning childrens' book illustrator from Britain, then it's good enough for my diary. In this video, the affable illustrator gives you a tour of the Tikky Graphic.

[comics] What We Saw At The First Artist Alley Comics Fest

3209.

Southeast Portland can hide things, tuck nifty things behind other nifty things. These things are worth the effort in finding.

Comic-cons, for instance. Oh, they're there. Hidden behind awesome little comic-cafes. I give you the corner of SE Powell Boulevard and 59th Avenue, on the border of South Tabor and FoPo.

This is a building containing a hair salon (The Phix), our comix cafe (The Spritely Bean), a print shop, and a good-bad-for-you food cafe (the mighty Steakadelphia). Behind, there, you see a tent or two peeking out? Why, yes you do. Let's explore, shall we?

When we get cross the wide, wide demesne that is SE Powell Boulevard, this is what we see.

This is the First Annual Artist Alley Comics Fest, presented by The Spritely Bean and supported by some worthy supporters, one of which be +Muse Art and Design . The artist alley, as I understand it to be, is an area of a comic-con where artists set up to sell, see, be seen, and meet fans and interested people. Much goodness for sale there. Being that this is set up in the parking lot behind Spritely Bean's building, it's like being in an alley, making this a true artist alley.

Well played, SB, well played.

One of the sponsors, Muse, sent along one of their people to rep the shop. This is one of them:

The tie of the day.

… our friend Vaughn Barker.  I've told you about Vaughn, the alter-ego of Valentine Barker here: http://zehnkatzen.blogspot.com/2015/03/pdxart-illustrator-vaughn-barkers.html, where you can go to find about about his awesomeness and his art and his general Zenitude, so he's worth your time. But this time, it's kinda about the tie.

That is one hell of a tie, man. Straight up.

The hair salon has the delightful name of The Phix. They had a backdrop up and they were showing off some of their work. We almost missed all of that pageant, as we showed a bit more than halfway through the afternoon, but we did see this fellow …

Character? Yes. Comic? No.

… who was as rockstar with his attitude as he was with his hair. Damned affable, too, as far as that goes.

Being tucked away in Southeast like it was, I was worried that there was going to be a gentle response. Adam and Huynh were taking a bit of a chance, I thought, and since I love, so far, everything they do, I was a little anxious for them.

I shouldn't have worried.

A person who's become a dear friend to me, +Donna Barr , creator of Stinz and The Desert Peach, proved that the tiny-con could work, and work well, even out at the end of the road. The Clallam Bay Comic Con, a small event, was none the less energetic, complete with dealer's room, panels, and a party. See here for her result: http://donnabarr.blogspot.com/2015/07/small-but-fierce-2015-clallam-bay.html.  The micro-cons are a boon because you can have all the creator-awesome without all the corp-overhead, and this is the sort of place where the indies can be the stars of the show.  Linework NW proved that it could shine as a vibrant smaller-sized, creator focused and driven event.

And now, AACF proves that small can be beautiful, gorgeous, amazing, and that tiny can have a big attitude. And nothing but indies! I'm going to show off individually what I got perforce, but there were big and small productions, and if you didn't come on over with a huge budget there were nifties, small comics, and things to get at a whole range of prices. There was brilliance available for a $20 and awesomness available for a $2 bill.

I'm sorry to say that I didn't get as many pictures as I could. Seen and enjoyed but not pictured:

Coffee. The Spritely Bean is a coffeehouse, of course, and Adam and Huynh's fine wares were available. I enjoyed two of their divine cold brew iced coffees, bold, velvety and just the thing for the über-humid afternoon. Also, macarons! I had heard about them, trendy as they are, but I'd never had any before then. EXQUISITE! Best cookie ever. Wife asked for a Italian soda, it was mint and came back Amalfi-style … it was like drinking a York peppermint pattie.

Jake Richmond. One of my more favorite recent discoveries is Modest Medusa, by Jake Richmond. Follow that link there for the skinny on the snake girl. I got to meet Jake and had the a great chat with him. He's part of a crew of SE Portland illustrators (Including Barry Deutsch and Ben Hsu) who were there en cartel, madly creative people who do work which tends to move into your mind and live there. He has a generous spirit and talked at length with me about his creation. There was also a Chocodile, which I consumed. Modest is right … they're quite tasty.

Brett Carville. I've also written about Brett, who is another recent favorite discovery of ours and just one of the nicest guys you'd want to meet. We'd seen him at Linework and it was amazing to see him here too. I got a look at something he's doing called Life of Craig, and I'll have more to write about that in another post in a few more days.

Donna Barr proved that you could have a comic-con anywhere. Linework NW proved that if you made it all about indies, it'll have meaning and velocity.

AACF proved that if you hold it … especially in Portland … they will come.

Hail, Eris.

[pdx_art] Bwana Spoons at Muse Art & Design, May, 2015

3202.

I have been unfairly keeping this to myself. Bad on me.

Muse Art and Design, the splendid art and inspiration supply store at SE 42nd and Hawthorne, has been holding the occasional demo and seminar. And they get better and better. The one back in February stays in my memory banks, and the one I've dithered on reporting on, this one, in May, was simply fun.

Bwana Spoons, Muse Art and Design, May, 2015.

The bespectacled man in the picture above should need no introduction if you exist in any of the intersections of art and illustration worlds currently percolating around the Portland area, but if you do, this is Bwana Spoons, and he produces trippy illustrations, but he works in chaos.

But more on that anon. The subject of this visit was the release of a line of acrylic gouaches, Acryla Gouache. This, a line of utter vibrancy by Holbein, was something of a revelation. I hadn't imagined that gouache could be anything but a watercolor, but here it was, a gouache created of acrylic … a resin color.

The wet consistency is lovely, thick, rich, creamy, creamier even than water-based gouache. The colors are memorable, and, amusingly, the assembled salon was going in big on a color called Opera, a brilliant pink-orange that is to your eyes what strong citrus is to your mouth.

I make no judgements by saying this; oversaturating your color response just might be the object you're going for. I found a cosmic humor in the way such a color was getting such an overwhelming, gut-level response.

The event was intended to demonstrate the color, and demonstrate it did. But it was also given over to a sense of pleasantly-chaotic play where people just dabbled with mixing the colors or came up with chaotically-inspired pieces. My favorite amongst the group is possibly this one, done by Peter, who runs the place. It started out as clouds and an abstract sun-not-sun in the sky … but it evolved into the most delightful flying snail I've ever seen, riding the air on a trail of fabulous:

You know not where it goes, all you need knowis that Rainbow Flying Snail wants you to be
fabulous.

Me and The Wife™ of course, had some fun. I was a little dry on inspiration today so we got Supernatural Orange Cat and Red Superhero. Wife did Rainbow with Shazam Outline. It was fun.

But, as to Bwana Spoons and chaos? Let me put it this way. We all fancy we can take a few disconnected strokes, pencil marks, what-have-you, and evolve something interesting out of them. Bwana started playing in his sketchbook with just a big, serpentine wave of color. Little-by-little, a detail there, an extension there, an overpaint in another place, and the fabric of that painted space began to take on depth and meaning, as though it was evolving itself through him. 

Skill, he has. I was watching the changer changing the changed and the changed changing the changer, though. It was something on a higher level. And this …

… is the utterly amazing (and maybe a little disturbing) result. The original fat squiggle is on the verso side of the spread and, like a sort of strand of DNA, it gave birth to the rest. And the real reward for the viewer is that it looks so accomplished. That's the true polish of skill. 

Bwana Spoons' website is: http://www.bwanaspoons.com/

Muse Art & Design is, of course, http://museartanddesign.com

[art] One Thing Bwana Spoons Did At Muse Art and Design

3185.

On Wednesday we were privileged to attend another one of +Muse Art and Design 's increasingly powerful demo-seminars. We went to one in February that I'm still unpacking, not because it's complex, but because I'm a mess. But I'll get to that one in due course. This dude abides.

Last Wednesday's event was about demoing the Acryla line of acrylic gouaches. They're good ones, and more on that to come. The featured artist was none other than Bwana Spoons, a man whose name is fun to say and is worth coming just to see him work. And he demoed the gouaches by doing so. A more complete write up is to come, but, for now, let me give you a taste of what he did do.

The man dances with chaos. But, like I said, more on that anon. Stay tuned.

[PDX, Type] At Muse Art & Design, Hand-drawn Type Rules The Register

3168.

Another visit to +Muse Art and Design, another few art supplies to satiate the jones for such things. Great visit with Peter and Vaughn, of course.

It was a busy day there. We got there on Sunday just before a sort of an afternoon rush, and I couldn't help but notice there almost everyone there was smiling and happy. I guess Muse has the same effect on just about everyone. It's just that way.

Something that made me happy is a hand-designed ad posted on the pillar near the register:

It's gone up during the last couple of months, and the Spring Sale verbiage is not by the original artist, who I understand is a newish employee there. But that's great design there … I love the classy art-deco-ness of it all

And there is a Spring Sale at Muse. You might want to check this out. Something else worth the checking out of is the other side of that column, which is all original artist…

Whether or not the idea of sugar-alcohol-based low-VOC spray paint is your deal, looking at this lovely hand drawn, highly-artistic type should be. 

[PDX_art] Illustrator Vaughn Barker's Little Women

3162.

Vaughn Barker is a Portland illustrator who I'm privileged to say I've met in the flesh. He can be found behind the register at +Muse Art and Design where we've betimes also found his art on display. He's one of those people who are the committed illustrator I should have been but I can't envy him his talent. I do think he should be much more widely-known than he is.

Of course, he may well be. I have a history of being somewhat late-to-the-party. But the art I've seen hung in the store is masterfully done and inspiring to look at. What has me feeling antic inside, though, are his little women.

Peep this, folks:

She's a mail courier fearlessly ascending a rope latter to her transportation. Fierce and adorable, she's letting nothing stop her. What is her mission? Hers and hers alone to know, but I'd trust her to complete that. That sort of confidence is stopped by nothing or nobody.

It's a scan of the central part of the print you see there to the right. The titles of it is Special Delivery and it speaks warmly of a dieselpunk, 1930s/1940s atmosphere, pulp stories, adventurers and daring exploits. I look at this and my mind flashes to Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, the 'gee-whiz' sort of story that young guys and gals would read from magazines made of rough, brown paper with covers decorated with dramatically-colored paintings.

There's a sort of theory I subscribe to about the transmission of taste and style down through the decades. To us in America, the 1930s and 1940s, despite a back drop of depression, misery and war, somehow remain the height of fashion and style with this stereotypical American dash … the fedora … the trenchcoat … the smartly-dressed tough noir fellow, in those stories, even the plain girls were glamorous, even the old matrons were stylish. As you went on into the 1950s, style renewed itself and could go any direction; but through the 60s, 70s, and 80s, it just got more forgettable. So, even now, in the year 2015, if you want debonair style mixed with your adventure, you go back to the 1930s and 1940s.

Vaughn's art seems to be inflected with this sensibility. He has another series of beautiful works, in which warplanes fill the sky while a Valkyrie-like spirit seems to float amongst them. Those are dashing in and of themselves, and I highly recommend them. But, maybe it's my intensifying attraction toward all things 'toon, his little women really excite me. Built on an abbreviated canon, they exude fierceness, smarts, attitude, an unafraid personality, and are impossible not to fall in love with. Made of thick shapes and ovoid ovals, they are never the less as cute as they are formidable, and even a little bit sexy.

You just want to follow them, to see what happens to them next.

I should hope we see more of them.

You can visit Vaughn's website (and buy art prints) at http://www.vaughnbarker.com/. His alter-ego, Valentine Barker, she of the small women, holds court at her blog, http://www.chalkyheart.com. Vaughn's personal blog, The 'Stration Station, is http://strationstation.blogspot.com/. 

[art] Meredith Dittmar At Muse: Creative Process From The Inside Out

3088.

On Saturday, 17 May 2014, as the May offering in Muse Art and Design's Artist-to-Artist talks, Peter and the crew hosted an artist I'd not heard of before: Meredith Dittmar. This is Meredith:

Meredith Dittmar at Muse Art and Design.

She works in polymer clay: Fimo, if I remember correctly. She takes it and assembles it into the most enigmatic ways and shapes; view her website, the picaresquely-named CorporatePig.com. The splash page will give you a big ol' taste; click through to her homepage and thither to the portfolio. Cute characters cavort amidst abstract confections that are possessed of the hint of a mathematical reverence and resonance that is hard to put a finger on but tickles the imagination.

There's a reason for that. During her talk, she mentioned that her father was an engineer and her grandfather was a NASA rocket scientist. She didn't elaborate, but it's not hard to presume that she fairly swum in scientific verities as a youngster. Another anecdote seemed to suggest that she also has something of a suspicion of authorities; when learning vowels in school she was schooled up on the traditional five plus the sometimes-sixth, her father corrected this by saying that the sometimes-sixth was a full-fledged vowel, no sometimes about it, and furthermore there was a seventh*.

When relating this at school, this lowered the proverbial boom, and her father stuck up for her. I'm not sure of the eventual resolution, but bless that man, right?

Meredith struck me as a brilliant human who appreciated knowledge while at the same time rejecting the 'it has to be' structure that knowledge is sometimes unjustly straitjacketed into, at least by way of authority. She worked, by a sort of gestalt way, to cause me to come to the conclusion that while there is a great deal that is knowable, capital-E-Everything is unknowable, or at least not-quite-completely-knowable, which appealed to me on a Tao level. And my impression was that this was a tremendous informative data line on her own work.

She shared with us a lot of images of idea boards that she kept. Patterns, clippings, fractal patters, mathematical formulae scampered about on them in happy semi-anarchy. The genius expressed … the jelly somehow nailed to the wall and not nailed to the wall, all simultaneously, which is a heady experience for any armchair philosopher and aspiring artist trying to find direction.

In retrospect this formed a sort of base stratum for what was happening concurrently. Everytime I think of it, I get a little more impressed and in awe. See, she never showed off much of her work, but she showed off a great deal of her working, or at least her possibility. At the beginning  of the hour-long talk, she distributed small cut pieces of Fimo and invited us to play with them at will, but without taking our attention from her. She did her talk about her life and influences and work, and I kneaded my bit of Fimo about without taking it too seriously.

My bad there. A word on that presently.

At the end of the discussion about her and her work, she asked us to take part in two 'experiments'. They both involved yet another lump of Fimo, but we were to listen to two recordings of physicists discussing quite abstruse concepts: the first, from its discussion of spin and color was no doubt relating to quarks, and the second was completely beyond me, but I did recognize the word eigenvector, though about the only thing I currently know about that is how to spell it. The important part about working was to simply observe your hands working the clay into whatever shapes the environment moved you to create, to get into that zone, and if we slipped out and got too self-aware, to pause a moment and refocus on the process of molding.

This is the stuff she plays in the background when she creates and the idea, as it seemed, was to see what sorts of things her audience would create. Whether she was compiling any sort of result or even per se looking for one we weren't clear on, and I suspect that wasn't the point anyway. All we walked away from the experience with was the experience, left to do its subliminal work on us; photos of past exploits showed spirals, geometric patterns, interesting prettiness.

Just before she left I got the chance to chat for a few minutes and found her intellect quickly drew me into a sort of orbit in which I started actively applying the experience to where I hope my own artistic growth takes me. I know this sounds kind of crazy, but she would say something and it would start this whole intellectual cascade, or at least that's what it seemed from my point of view. At this point, it's hard to put it into any specific words (never mind how prolix I've gotten here) what effects this is having upon me. Every time I look over the experience, it opens up again like another level of a Matrioshka doll.

She did talk for a moment about fractals, come to think.

Crazy.

The experimental process that she took us through, though, suddenly gelled for what I think it was, and what it will forever mean to me: the most effective look at the fabled creative process that I've ever had and probably ever will. She, as nearly as possible, without excess motion, deconstructed her own creative process for us, let us in, then reconstructed it about us so that we were suddenly on the inside looking out. I can draw parallels between the way I create when I'm in the zone and what she does, and see where it's different, and I can't put any of that into any less than the most clumsy of ramblings, but it's there for me. Elegantly and economically, and it continues to have impact after the fact because it worked on so many levels that one can only see when in the rear-view.

She taught me something without actively teaching a thing. How rare is that?

Oh, and the 'bad' I was talking of? I realized, on review, that giving us the clay at the beginning was also an experiment, but with different terms. There's that Matrioshka doll opening, again. And every time I think I've come to a conclusion on a thought generated by this, no fewer than two paths shoot out.

Clay isn't my medium, but she just might be amongst the most important artists I'll ever sit in on.

And you'll please forgive the rambling; each time I go over the experience I am once again beMused. It's hard not to be distracted.

*The classic 5 vowels are, of course, A, E, I, O, and U. The sometimes-sixth would by Y, naturally. The unknown seventh was cited as W. It makes logical sense, when you think of the sound the Y makes, which is fluid like a vowel, not staccato like a consonant, and any Welshman or woman can tell you quite naturally that W is a vowel (consider that the Welsh spelling of the English house name Tudor is Twdwr). 

[art] You Can't Legislate A Man's Neck; or, Art in the Art Supply Store by the Employees

2997.

This is one reason why I love my favorite art stores, and one reason why we have to have more than one.

I have rhapsodized in past missives about my two beloved east-side art supply sources, I've Been Framed and Muse Art and Design. Today's IBF's turn for some sloppy love. They both have different characters, each unique from the other, both like sides of a whole.

Kind of like this taijitu here.

Both are friendly, both are crazy knowledgeable, both almost-unsanely-affordable, but where Muse is cool, ordered, and tailored to fit its location, IBF is kinda wild, kinda wooly and exuberantly unafraid of being what it is. And, today, what it is is a happenin', accidental gallery for its employees.  I wasn't looking for anything this day, The Wife™ was. I come out of the long corridor of decorative papers …(and tho IBF on Foster is in a small building, it seems to go on forever … like 'dis …)

… and I look at this, and can't stop giggling.

Flesh Beard. You can legislate a lot of things, but you can't legislate a man's neck … Well, yes and no. In American culture you certainly can't argue the point, but during the French Revolution they legislated a whole lot of men's necks, if I understand what goeth on thereth correctly. Turning about a quarter of the clock's turn to the right, we have a windowpane simply full of delight.

There is some connection between Nathan (whoever he is) and coffee (or, perhaps coffeee) that we will have to leave to more learned heads … Erich VanDaaniken, say, or Richard Hoagland, perhaps … to puzzle. At this time, I can only bask in the infinite power of such a connection.

Another incident where the inanimate speak. First, it was 'bacon bits'. Now …

I guess that colors having an off day. GEDDIT? OFF … COLOR!!! Let's try it with the bonus Commonwealth U: OFF COLOUR!!!! My God this is comedy gold!

A couple more for good measure, or least odd measure

It's the newest model, 70s cool, with all the options (as noted)

Stravinksky from the Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain school.
And whooo's your Daddy? I guess we'll never know.
The illustration of the building façade? You know I'm in love with this.

Is it any reason a visit to IBF leaves me feeling kid-antic inside, and full of the idea of the possible?

My recommendation to you, dear artist friend, is to also adopt both IBF and Muse. Do it. Don't argue with me. Just go.

And don't forget to stop and smell the art along the way.

[art] The Kind Of Art Store Landscaping We Grow Around Here

2965.What would be more perfect outside of Muse Art and Design …

… than a color wheel?

The white gravel in the center tells you it's additive.

SE 42nd and Hawthorne.

[pdx] Urban Archaeology: At SE 42nd And Hawthorne, Where They Once Sold Ice Cream

2797This was a pleasant find to stumble upon, all the more so because we weren't looking for it and it concerns the continued success of peoples we are quite fond of.

I have exulted the charms. of Muse Art and Design before. Along with I've Been Framed they are the two art supply stores you must know if you need art supplies here in town. Local, passionate about what they do, and won't break your bank wide open.

Last we, me and The Wife™ slid along to the corner of SE 42nd Avenue and Hawthorne Blvd, upper Hawthorne, and we were amazed to see this:

Muse's current location is one address east of this (more on that allusion perforce). Until recently that location was a quirky, cool vintage shop called Shadowhouse Collectibles who, via the vicissitudes of business these days, had to quit the location and move on (we don't know where yet – if you never visited, you've missed out, my friend. Keep up to date with them here, as they say they'll be back). Shadowhouse has been good to us, as the vintage KATU sign will attest.

Alas and alack, for now Shadowhouse is gone. This has opened up an opportunity for Muse to move into a bigger space, which can augur nothing but good; but until then, remodeling of the space happens. And that has uncovered and unexpected visual treat.

The building on the corner SE 42nd and Hawthorne has had her makeup removed for a newer application, and we find that this used to be an ice cream shop.

The Portland Ice Cream Company, to be precise. I don't know whether they made it there or had it brought in, but the old hand-painted typography on the facade brings up memories I didn't know I had (mostly because I wasn't alive in the 1940s).

The old paint work itself shows signs of revision. We peoples, we just can't leave things along, can we? I'm guessing that the half-covered signage probably said something like Farmers Ice Milk and Cream, but we are certainly guessing there.

Old-fashioned ice-cream parlors. Doesn't that just speak 'small-town America'? One wonders what the then-denizens of upper Hawthorne would think of the current, with the ironic bars and the organic markets and the incense-and-peppermints shops and whatnot. Probably think they were on another planet or summat.

It would be far amiss if I didn't mention something about the remodeler. The job is being done by an outfit called Michael Cordes Remodeling, and we met the man as he was cleaning up at the end of what was obviously a long, productive day of work. There are all sorts of builders revising Portland at the present time but I don't think I've ever run into one that has this keen a sense of history. Very, very affable fellow; had a few minutes to talk and we had a fairly fun chat. But, you tell me … what remodeler would care enough about history to post a picture of the building in its heyday? I'm not sure what year this was, but the old-style street-blades on the corner suggest the 1940s.

As far as I'm concerned, anyone who formats his business card and sign in lovely calligraphy is probably a cut above the rest. He can be contacted at mcremodel@rconnects.com, if you're of the bent.

He's said he has some more historic PDX photos to share after I post this, and i can share some, I will.

Keep your eyes open, peoples! History is right in front of you betimes.

[art] Muse Art and Design-Earth Safe Finishes Demo at Milepost 5

2792So, yesterday night, The Wife™ and I took part in a demo/workshop put on by Muse Art and Design at the Milepost 5 complex. The subject of interest is a line of art supplies by Earth Safe Finishes (http://earthsafefinishes.com), and we found the whole thing nifty as a rule.

Earth Safe Finishes is a company working in the field of 'green'; the line is different, they say, for two main reasons. First, they're made in the USA, which is always a plus these days, and second (and maybe more important to an individual artist) they boast that they're free of VOC's, or volatile organic compounds. These are the chemicals that allow the paints, mediums, etc to dry quickly by outgassing. For those who are chemical-sensitive they are an active concern.

If they are a concern for any individual, then Earth Safe Finishes products do indeed provide an alternative. They are all non-toxic. They include mediums (including a titan called Fabric Magic, which can do just about anything, it seems) and a line of paints (called colorants but now called pigments) that are very very concentrated. A few drops do go a loooong way.

I used very small amounts of Phthalo Blue, Red, Yellow, and Lampblack to produce this Mona-Lisa-esque work over the two-hour workshop:

The colors are very rich and vibrant and enjoyably workable. The right side of the picture was me playing around with colors and a medium. 

A good time was had by all, and the Musers Marcus, Peter and David were there, and did their own works; I found all three to be skillful artists … albeit with visions running toward the comically disturbing. Good thing I don't have clown issues … and let's leave it there. Susan, led the demo had a sure and informative hand over the proceedings, and the people who showed up were all very affable and friendly.

In short, fun.